Title : ...and a Happy New Year
Author: Jo Taylor
Part 1 of 7
Pairing: Marcus/Ivanova sort of
Rating: General
Disclaimer: Characters belong to JMS, the idea belongs to me!!
Authors notes: Well, this was supposed to be a light-hearted follow up to Merry Xmas; it didn't end up that way g
Feedback very welcome
...and a Happy New Year
Susan's kiss was not the only thing to send Marcus' temperature soaring and weaken his limbs. Stephen's medication and the initial euphoria of her touch soon waned, and the infection that had entered his system took hold, leaving him weak and delirious.
For two days lucid consciousness eluded him, though his dreams were full of memories and thoughts that taunted his mind. He was unaware of his mutterings, the tossing and turning of his fevered body as visions haunted his dreams, their content and meaning just out of his grasp.
Through them all one image returned time and again, the one thing that held any clarity for him in his torment, the face of a child. Frightened brown eyes fixed on his, tears glistening on the long lashes, the soft mouth quivered under a pert nose. The child spoke, but he could not hear the words, only the sensation of fear, of desperate need reached him, and then his mind wandered once more down pathways that led nowhere.
Shivering, he opened his eyes to the bright glare of Med Lab. The light was suddenly obscured as Stephen Franklin leaned over his bed, the dark brown eyes concerned even as a smile lit his friend's face.
"Hey, Marcus, welcome back."
The familiar tones of Franklin's voice soothed some of the torment that had surfaced with him, easing the slight disorientation that clung persistently to his hazy thoughts. He felt terrible; the drugs washing through his system made him feel lousy as antibiotics swarmed the last of the infection that had run rampant through his wiry body. He licked gently at dry lips and found a strong arm lifting him as a straw was presented to his parched mouth. Sweet, cold water washed against his coated tongue and he sighed happily.
"That's enough for now. No, no more."
He was laid gently back, much against his will, but as he was unable to raise himself he gave in with what good grace he could muster.
Marcus' eyes slid shut as another chilly wave washed through him. He heard orders being issued, felt the press of a needle in his arm and the added warmth of a blanket being draped over his aching body. Within moments darkness claimed him as a natural sleep took his body in its healing embrace. Even though his fever had broken and the delirium had left his mind, still his dreams turned back to the little girl who had been the constant thread of his nightmares. He saw her now in greater detail, the long blonde curls framed a chubby, angelic face; her clothes were torn and dirty but had obviously once been of good quality. And the abject misery that effused her features cut at him, called to him for succour. All around her was darkness, deep, impenetrable with no hint of time or place. He did not know who she was, where he might have encountered her or why she figured so large in his thoughts, he only knew that she needed his help. That he must find her, wherever she was. His mind knew no doubt that the child was in danger, and that it was his task to protect and rescue her.
When next he opened his eyes, the dim lighting and hushed sounds indicated the night watch had begun. Flexing one hand and then another he was relieved to feel some strength returning to his weakened limbs. He tensed and relaxed each set of muscles, testing his resilience and pinpointing areas that were still distressed. The whole of his left side ached where the gun's discharge had seared through his flesh damaging muscles and tissues, leaving him with yet another scar he mused. His body was becoming a road map to the calling he had chosen, a testament to the Ranger way of life. Sighing softly he pushed himself upright, catching his breath as pain shot through his shoulder. Sensitive fingers sought the area and met with a med patch, matching the one that adorned his torso - the blast had gone right through him then, shooting up at an awkward angle, missing vital organs by millimetres. Sliding his legs over the edge of the bed he sat quietly for a moment, letting his senses settle from the mad whirling that turned the room about him. Gradually, as he breathed deeply, concentrating on the flow of air in and out of his lungs, the world stopped spinning and he eased himself down to the floor. His body protested; knees that normally had the action of well oiled springs now threatened to cave beneath him. He grabbed quickly at the bed, his eyes scanning the room for any stray doctor or nurse that might try and stop his rash actions. Normally he would not flout Franklin's edicts, nor would he be so careless as to disregard his body's needs, but there was something driving at his senses, something that told him there was a mission for him to complete, a job he had left undone. It thundered through him, echoing in his tired mind until it blotted out all else.
He must have made a strange sight as his tall unkempt figure in its incongruous medical blues gingerly made its way down thankfully empty corridors. Making the safety of the transport, Marcus collapsed gratefully against the wall and directed the conveyance to his floor. Right now what he needed most was his own bed, some time to meditate and to sort out who or what was plaguing his thoughts. His head rested against the faintly vibrating wall and he let his eyes close briefly. The small lurch under his feet alerted him that a floor had been reached and he opened his eyes reluctantly, to find Susan Ivanova gazing at him in amazement, one foot stepping over the threshold.
Inwardly he groaned; he loved the woman dearly but already he could see storm clouds gathering on her face.
"What the hell are you doing, Marcus?" Susan snapped. Marching right up to him, she stood bare inches away from his ailing form.
He tried his best to stand a little straighter and to lift his head from the comfort of the wall's support but he stood defeated.
"Oh bugger!" he sighed softly, the remains of his masculine pride lying in tatters around him. "Lend a hand, Susan, there's a terrible draught cutting right through these." His hand plucked at the thin blue material and he thought he saw the faintest gleam of amusement quickly suppressed in her lovely eyes.
"Does Stephen know you are out of the Med Lab?" Right on cue her link bleeped, and a message from C&C reached her. 'Doctor Franklin had lost a patient, would everyone be on the lookout for...'
"I have him. Tell Med Lab I am bringing him..."
"Susan, no, please." The urgency in his tone stayed her for a moment. "There something I have to do. I can't go back right now."
Her eyes bore into him, assessing his condition and the apparent urgency of his mission and she came to a swift conclusion.
"C&C, this is Ivanova, tell Doctor Franklin I will escort Mr Cole to his own quarters. I'll be in touch with him direct should his services be required."
"Your reasons had better be good, Cole." She slipped a strong arm around his waist and pulled him close to her, taking his weight with ease. "Let's go then."
They moved slowly, each step Marcus took sent a shiver of pain lancing through his shoulder where it then radiated along every nerve and sent a resonant pounding through his temples. But for now he did not care. Ivanova had her arm around him and, from this intimate contact, he could smell the fresh scent of her shampoo, the soft fragrance of her natural perfume. Just a shame he was in no fit state to really appreciate his position.
He cued his door and they stepped in to relative darkness. The area was sparsely furnished, almost spartan in its clean lines and lack of accessories. A bed, a chair plus the usual amenities seemed lost in the small room. On one side a tiny galley hosted a single set of cutlery and china, the cupboards held little in the way of comestibles. Susan draped the weary Ranger onto the bed then went looking for the makings of a hot drink or some kind of food. Marcus watched in affectionate amusement as she turned domestic.
"My god, Marcus, don't you have anything to eat in the place?" She pulled open the small refrigeration unit and hastily shut it again, nose wrinkling against the sudden smell. "Something has died in there. Don't your ever clean up?"
"Gorgonzola," he said quietly, trying not to laugh, it hurt too much to indulge in the sudden rush of humour that shot through him.
"Well, it stinks. " She rattled through his only cupboard, finally finding a pack of tea sachets that Delenn had given him long ago. "What about these? Are they safe to drink?"
"The blue ones, not the red... on the other hand, I could probably do with waking up a bit."
He tried to struggle upright but Susan's hand was firm on his chest. "You will have blue and like it. Stephen will have my guts if you end up back in his care worse than when you left." She quickly made the tea, letting it brew for a minute; all the while she had one eye on Marcus' pale face. When it was ready she helped him upright and took the only seat available to her, pulling it up close to his position on the edge of his bed until their knees almost touched. At any other time Marcus would have revelled in her company but the nagging thought that he had something to do, something that urgently needed his attention, kept him distracted. As though aware of his inner turmoil, Susan touched his blue covered thigh, attracting his attention.
"Talk to me, Marcus. What drove you out of Med Lab?"
"Apart from the bloody awful food you mean?" he quipped, almost like his old self. Her eyes brought him down again, and almost as though the image had been waiting for his weakness to allow its entry, the child's image floated into his mind.
"Have you ever had a dream that nags at you? A premonition maybe, something that you just know is the truth?" His deep green eyes caught the sudden shift in hers, almost as though she was uncomfortable with the subject.
"Hasn't everyone," she returned quickly.
"I guess," he said slowly. "Whilst I was out of it, I dreamt, or at least I think I dreamt..." his voice trailed off as doubts now assailed him.
"Tell me." Her voice, though soft, was a definite command.
"I kept seeing this little girl. A sweet little thing all gold curls and big eyes. Nice clothes too, though they were a bit battered in places. She was maybe five or six, I'm not good at women's ages," his grin tried to take the embarrassment from his tone. "Anyway, she seemed lost or in distress. I kept seeing her face, and I knew that she needed my help. That she needs my help," he stressed the present tense, suddenly wanting to make Susan understand his quest.
Susan's face gave nothing away and yet he was aware of her sudden stillness, the tension that ran through her.
"What is it? Is there a child missing on the station? Come on, Susan, spill it!"
She stood abruptly and took a quick turn around his small room. He watched through his fatigue as she paced back and forth, almost hearing the wheels turning behind her shuttered eyes. Her glance, when she finally desisted from her perambulations, was cool, her tone matching the sudden aloofness that surrounded her. Gone was the caring friend of a moment ago, she was all Commander now, calling on her Russian poise.
"I'll check it out. For now, I suggest you get some rest."
"Susan!" He struggled to his feet in time to see her back disappearing from view. Cursing under his breath he sank back down. He hated it when she got in this sort of mood. On a good day he could read her as easily as bold type on an open page, but occasionally, as now, she confused him utterly. That there was something going on that he knew nothing about he was sure. How it involved the lost child eluded him.
***
Ivanova entered Med Lab some few hours later. Franklin was back on duty and still seething at Marcus' midnight flit from his care and his glance was far from friendly as she stepped over the threshold.
"Well?" Stephen turned and dismissed the junior doctor at his side and escorted Susan into his office. "How's my patient doing?" he asked, tapping his fingers against the desk.
"He's tough, he'll be okay. Stephen, remember about a year ago the Siskin girl who vanished?"
He sat up quickly, his eyes scanning the immediate vicinity for anyone who might have heard Susan's soft utterance.
"What about her? Has she been found?"
Susan moved a little closer, changing position until she could watch the surrounding area through the clear partition. "Marcus claims to have seen her whilst he was in here. Apparently she was haunting his dreams. Could she still be alive or is it just fever driven delusions?"
"Are you sure it was her?" Their low voiced conference had started to garner unwanted attention and he let a smile play across his face to deflect their curiosity.
"He gave me a pretty good description of her. How could he know, Stephen? He wasn't even on the station when that whole scenario went down." She let her own smile show for those still watching.
"I think it's time for a house call, don't you?"
***
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